Water Instead of Wine Hypnosis

Let your eyes close. And take a slow breath in through your nose. And a longer breath out through your mouth. Again. In. And out. With every breath out, let a little more of the day leave you. The emails. The conversations. The list of things still undone. None of it needs you right now. Notice the weight of your body against whatever is supporting you. The chair. The bed. The floor. Feel how gravity is already doing the work of holding you. You do not have to hold yourself. Now bring your attention to your forehead. Let the small muscles there soften. Let your jaw unclench. Your tongue rest behind your lower teeth. Let your shoulders drop another inch. And another. I am going to count down from ten to one. With every number, you will go twice as deep as the number before. Ten. Nine. Drifting. Eight. Softer. Seven. Heavier. Six. The thinking mind quieter. Five. Halfway down. Four. Deeper still. Three. Letting go. Two. Almost there. One. Resting now in a deep, easy, focused state. Your body still. Your mind open. Listening not with effort, but with that quiet part of you that already knows what needs to change.

I want you to picture your kitchen. Imagine it is early evening. The light is softer. Dinner is done, or nearly so. This is the hour. The hour where the hand reaches for the cupboard. Where the cork comes out. Where the glass appears on the counter as if by itself. See it clearly. The shape of the bottle. The colour of the wine. The familiar pour. The little sigh of release as the first sip hits. You know this scene. Your body knows it. It has rehearsed it hundreds of times. Now I want you to notice something on the counter beside the bottle. A tall, cold glass of water. Beads of condensation on the outside. Maybe a slice of lemon. Or a glass of sparkling, fizzing softly. Or your favourite mug, steam rising from a herbal tea. These have always been there. You just have not really seen them. And as you stand in this imagined kitchen, notice that the wine bottle looks slightly different than it used to. A little smaller. A little less interesting. A little more like just a bottle. The glass of water, by contrast, looks bright. Clean. Honest. The kind of drink that does not ask anything back from you tomorrow. Hold this scene gently. We will return to it changed.

Now imagine a staircase in front of you. Ten steps down. Carpeted, safe, gently lit. Each step takes you deeper into your own mind. Deeper into the place where habits live and where habits can be rewritten. Ten. Taking the first step. Nine. Softer. Eight. Your body almost asleep, your mind clear. Seven. Deeper. Six. Five. Halfway. Four. The everyday mind quiet now. Three. Two. One. At the bottom of the staircase is a quiet room. Warm light. A comfortable chair. This is the room where you make changes that hold. You are seated here now, deeply relaxed, and fully open to the suggestions that follow. Every word lands easily. Every word becomes part of how you think, choose, and act.

From this day forward, your relationship with evening wine begins to change. Not through struggle. Not through forbidding. But through a quiet, steady shift in what your mind and body actually want. You are someone whose body is working toward a leaner, lighter, healthier shape. Wine, in the quantities you have been drinking, no longer fits that direction. Your mind understands this clearly now. When evening comes, and you walk into your kitchen, you find yourself naturally drawn to water first. A tall glass of cold water. Sparkling water with a slice of lime. Herbal tea in your favourite mug. These drinks feel genuinely good. They cool you. They calm you. They give you the wind down you have been seeking, without the cost. The old urge to pour wine the moment dinner ends becomes weaker each day. It feels less automatic. More like a thought you can simply notice and let pass. You begin to see wine for what it truly is in your life right now. Liquid calories. A sugar your body does not need. A small, soft saboteur of every good food choice you made earlier in the day. You do not hate wine. You simply see it accurately. And as you see it accurately, the pull weakens. When the thought of wine arises, you pause. You take one slow breath. And you ask yourself one simple question. Do I actually want this, or is this just the habit asking? Most evenings, the answer is clear. It is the habit. And the habit no longer runs you. You pour water instead. Or sparkling. Or tea. You pour it into a beautiful glass. You sit down with it. And you discover that the wind down you wanted was never really about the alcohol. It was about the pause. The ritual. The permission to stop. You can have all of that, fully, without the wine. Your sleep deepens. Your mornings become clearer. Your face looks brighter in the mirror. Your jeans begin to fit differently. These rewards are real, and your mind tracks them carefully, reinforcing your new choices day by day. On the occasions you do choose to drink, perhaps a single glass with friends on a Friday, or a celebration, you drink slowly, deliberately, and with full enjoyment. One glass is enough. You feel no pull toward the second. You simply finish, smile, and move on. Cravings, when they come, become small and brief. They rise like a wave, and like every wave, they pass. You ride them easily, knowing that within minutes the urge is gone, and you are still in charge. You stop keeping large quantities of wine in the house. What is not easily reached is not easily poured. Your environment supports your choices. And underneath all of this, a quiet pride begins to grow. Pride in the woman, or the man, who finally addressed the one thing that was holding everything else back. Water instead of wine. Sparkling instead of pouring. Tea instead of topping up. These become your new defaults. Easy. Natural. Yours. Your weight begins to move again. Because the gap has closed. The hidden calories are gone. And the body that has been waiting to release weight is finally allowed to.

I want you to imagine yourself two weeks from now. It is a Wednesday evening. Dinner is finished. You are in your kitchen, the same kitchen as before. But something is different. You walk to the fridge, and without thinking much about it, you reach for sparkling water. You pour it into a wine glass, because you like the ritual, and you drop in a slice of cucumber or lime. You carry it to the sofa. You take a sip. It is crisp, clean, satisfying. You glance at the wine rack across the room. You feel nothing in particular. No pull. No fight. Just a calm neutrality. It is there. You are here. The two are no longer connected. You notice you feel lighter, physically and mentally. Your stomach is flatter when you wake up. Your sleep last night was deep and unbroken. Your mood today has been steadier. The scale, this morning, finally moved. Now picture yourself a month from now. Out at dinner with friends. Someone offers you wine. You either accept one glass and sip it slowly, fully enjoying it, or you order sparkling with lime and feel completely at ease. No one notices. No one cares. You are not performing sobriety. You are simply someone who drinks when they want to and does not when they do not. Feel how that freedom sits in your body. Light. Spacious. Clean. This is who you are becoming. This is who you already are.

In a moment, I am going to count from one to five, and as I do, you will return to full waking awareness, carrying everything we have done today with you. One. Energy beginning to return to your body. Two. Awareness of the room around you, the sounds, the temperature. Three. Feeling clear, refreshed, and quietly proud. Four. Your eyes ready to open, your mind alert. Five. Eyes open. Fully back. Calm, clear, and free.

Tonight, before you go to the kitchen, drink a full glass of water first. Notice how often that simple act removes the urge entirely. Keep sparkling water cold and visible in your fridge. Move the wine somewhere less convenient. Listen to this session nightly for the next two weeks, ideally in the early evening when the old habit used to start. Each listen deepens the change. You are doing the work that the scale has been waiting for. Be proud of that. I will see you in the next session.